Prove Yourself
by Pkpopi
Summary: Wanda is still getting use to her new body. This one, unlike Melanie's, is soft, which makes it hard for her to do the work she use to - like work in the fields, ect. In her quest to prove herself, Ian is constantly worrying. Will she get hurt? Mult. POVs
1. Kitchen Work

**This is my first Host fan fiction so cut me some slack. I'm not going to nail every chacter to a T that way Meyers job - who, by the way, owns all of this book , not me. **

**Summary: Wanda is still getting use to her new body. This one, unlike Melanie's, is soft, which makes it hard for her to do the work she use to - like work in the fields, ect. In her quest to prove herself, Ian is constantly worrying. Will she get hurt? What would happen if she did? Multiple POV's. **

**I really hope you enjoy this story. Sorry if the summary really turns you off, but I promise that this story will be good - I hope. Thanks for reading and have a great day!**

**Wanda's POV:**

_"Pet, time for dinner!" mother shouted, her voice echoing up the stairs. _

_I swiftly jumped off the top bunk, landing with a quiet thud. Mother said she was grilling chicken and had stayed up half the night making her famous mashed potatoes. My mouth watered just thinking about it. Not only was I looking forward to the incredible meal we were about to eat but also to what new I had to share. I was more than excited._

_The kitchen was brightly lit with candles and oil lamps, since the house we were staying in was built back before us souls came to Earth, they had no electricity. Someone once told me that it was build in the 1800s, but I told them they were fallacious; nothing was alive then, it was took early for humans to be living. They even went as far as asking their teacher. "I don't need school," I told them, my nose high. "I'm seventeen." _

_Thankfully we had a mechanic soul to help us install a stove, some plumbing, and other necessities._

_I took my place at our square table. "It's an antique," mother had told me once. I didn't know what an antique was, but I liked how it sounded on my tongue._

_"Elbows off the table, Pet," mother chided. A shameful blush crept up my cheeks. _

_The chicken was pre-cut - mother was so efficient. She had said to me one time that if she didn't cut it herself she might as well count me as good as choking. _

_"Thank you, Mother! This looks wonderful." She accepted the compliment with a hushed 'thank you' and gently placed a piece of chicken on her tongue. _

_Even since Mother's host's husband died, Mother has been . . . depressed - that's the word. She rarely spoke anymore, knitted incessantly in complete silence. She once told me that she loathed knitting. Cooking was her only enjoyable pastime. It felt sad, because I couldn't do anything, because we never talked anymore, because she would stare at something for an unlimited amount of time, until her eyes glazed over. That was why I came up with my proposition._

_"Mother?" I asked, mustering up a genuine smile._

_She barely turned her head. I sighed. _

_"Mother, I was thinking of staying with Aunt Marian for a few weeks, is that alright?" I wanted her to say no, that I couldn't go because she didn't want me to leave her. I wanted her to beg for me to stay, stay with her, to take care of her. But instead I got the slightest nod. _

_My eyes started to sting._

Someone was shaking me.

"Wanda?" I heard someone whisper."Wanda, wake up. It's just a dream." Ian.

I groaned. Ian sounded relieved.

"Wanda, honey, are you alright?" Wet tears were sliding down my cheeks. I swiped them off, embarrassed.

Instead of answering, I curled up against his chest, wrapping my slight arms around his waist. I buried my blazing face in his neck, betting he could feel the warmth radiating from my cheeks.

"Morning," I mumbled into his shoulder.

He chuckled. My breath hitched. "Good morning, Wanda."

Oh, Ian. He is so sweet. How did I deserve someone like him? Even when he just said good morning, I swear my heart skipped a beat. The guilt of almost leaving him forever knotted in my stomach. How could I think to doing something so irrational?

He brushed a few strands of my golden curls out of my face, leaving his hand to linger on my pink cheek. I snuggled closer.

I almost jumped when he whispered right into my ear, "Will you tell my why you were crying?" My blush made a second appearance.

I pulled back so that I could look at his face - okay, his eyes. His ocean blue orbs as concerned as always. I kissed his nose.

"Just another memory about Pet's mother." The worry line between Ian's eyes thickened.

"Another one?" I had been remembering some of Pet's life for the past couple of days now. It was normal but Ian was still anxious.

"I told you it is very common to be remembering some of Pet's life - don't worry, even though you are very good at it." I rubbed the crease from his eyebrows with my index finger.

He nodded, faking the excuse I'd told me.

The stars were gone, replaced by the shining sun. I looked around the room thinking, "What a mess."

I had moved into Ian's room right after my reinsertion into Pet. Her body was awkward at first. I was use to Melanie - strong, tall, muscular. Pet was soft and small, delicate Jamie had put it once. We were sitting in the middle of Ian's - _our - _twin sized mattress. Normally that would be much too small for two people to sleep on, but since I was pocket-sized, it worked out perfectly.

"Time for work," I said, reaching for Ian's hand after standing up. I heard his mocking sigh.

"Do we have to?" He made me laugh, his sounding like a whiny toddler.

"Come on - get ready." I helped him up - not really, he was about twice my size and could eat me in one bit if he wanted to - and got ready for bread making.

I didn't want to make bread all day, what I really wanted to do was work in the fields and carry boxes that I could sleep inside of, but everyone - Ian - maked sure that I can't or don't. Maybe this body is fragile and delicate but if I ever want to work in the fields again - which I do - they - Ian - are going to have to start letting me try - or at least carry the gigantic boxes.

Ian kissed me full on the lips good-bye but pulled away too soon. I pouted.

"Oh, Wanda," he said, lifting my chin to look in his eyes, his deep blue eyes. He suddenly became serious like every time we were separated.

"Keep yourself safe, don't go wandering off somewhere and get hurt, please." He kissed the top of my head before heading toward his work.

The kitchen was sort of in the middle of everything, at least it was the place everyone came together - unless we were in the game room playing soccer or holding trial, which I was rarely invited to any more because of my 'lies'. I usually just told Jeb that the person was innocent no matter what. This was a house of humans and I was an intruding soul. I gave them every right to hate me.

Lily was waiting for me when I took my rightful place at the kitchen counter.

Poor Lily. She was still terribly torn over Wes's death just under a year ago. And I still felt horribly responsible. Lily was so sweet, telling me I was foolish to believe that I had any part in Wes's death, but deep down I knew she agreed with me. Her eyes were still sad, sometimes even red, tear marks distinguished simply on her dust covered cheeks.

"Morning, Wanda. How did you sleep?" Lily asked politely, grabbing some dough from underneath the counter top.

I shrugged,apathetic. The dreams weren't as important as Ian perceived them to be. "Fine, and you?"

She could detect my lie; she raised an accusing eyebrow but let it slide. "Suitably, thank you."

We kneaded the dough in silence, listening in on other peoples more fascinating topics, something we wouldn't have thought to talk about.

". . . They were shaking hands! I thought we were watching a show about wrestling, but the buggers weren't even fighting!" Brant was ranting.

And then I heard Sharon whisper to Maggie, ". . . Can't believe they have . . . _Wanda _working in the kitchen. What if she poisons the food." I shook my head in disbelief.

Still, after all this time, they still couldn't receive me as 'one of them'. Even as Melanie, their own family, they couldn't imagine me living in peace with them. Well, they kept their distance and I was glad to keep mine.

I was becoming restless after kneading bread for two hours, I wanted real work. Hard, invigorating work that left me completely exhausted at the end of the day. But, no, it was all about my safety. What about his safety? What would I do if something happened to Ian while he was working in the fields or on a raid or cleaning the mirrors in the central tunnel. What did he _think _I would do if he got hurt - or worse, died. I flinched. Did he think I would just get over him completely, move on. How naive! I could never move on if something ever separated Ian and me permanently.

Lunch was approaching and everyone from the field was congregating in the mess hall. When Ian walked through the door, I dropped my dough and ran into his arms. He held me protectively around the waist, spinning me in circles until my head reeled.

"How are you?" he asked anxiously, again.

I playfully slapped his chest. "Fine, fine. How are _you? _Working in the fields is a much more difficult job than kneading bread all day." I sighed.

"Hot and sweaty," he laughed. I smiled a big, pearly white grin.

We ate lunch together, my hand in his. I was in heaven. Meanie and Jared joined us shortly. Jamie even managed to squeeze onto the four seater bench. We were a family - all five of us - it was nice to have real people to trust. I had finally found where I belonged.

All too soon, Ian - with Melanie and Jared - had to go back to the field. I smiled, nodded, pretended to be okay with going back to my easy jobs of making bread and cleaning around the kitchen, but he saw right through me every time.

"I know you don't like working in there" - he jerked his thumb toward the kitchen - "but it's the safest place for someone of your stature."

I tried to come up with a plausible argument. "Is it? I mean, I could easily slip and hit my head on the oven, or maybe burn my hand, or even cut off a few fingers. The kitchen is a dangerous place."

He puckered his lips, and I hoped for the best. "You're right." I almost cried out with satisfaction, but then he added, "Maybe we should just store you in a box with packaging peanuts for the rest of your life; you couldn't be hurt then." He laughed at his own joke.

"Fine, _fine_," I huffed, sending him on his way.

Right after Ian left for the fields, Jeb came to me with a rag and a pail of water. It was kismet.

"Do you think you could help me with a chore, Wanda?" Jeb asked with a toothy grin.

I nodded a bit too enthusiastically.

"What are they making you do in there?" he joked. "Boil onions." I laughed with him. Whatever got me out of that kitchen into some real work, I was game.

"What chore, Jeb?" I wondered out loud as Jeb led me to the central tunnel. He rubbed his neck, habitually.

"I need ya to clean the mirrors for me, alright?" Yes, finally something my small body was good for: standing on a ladder, washing windows . . . Okay, so it was not ideal, but it was better than boiling onions.

"No problem," I said, my voice full of confidence. What's the worst that could happen? I took the rag from Jeb's open palm and started up the ladder.

**Okay? So? Do you hate it? If you do, please tell me. I want to know if I should stop this story now, before I get too involved. **

**If you do like it, be warned that I have a ton of school work so it will take me a little time to update, but I won't give up on this story - don't worry. **


	2. Terrified

**Here's chapter two! If you add me as an alert or favorite story or leave me a review, I would love to write you back, but my email isn't working. I'm not getting any messages from Fanfiction anymore - I don't know why. I well! Thank you for those who have added me and reviewed! **

**Ian POV:**

She was crying - sleeping, but crying. The vulnerable look on her face broke my heart. I tried whispering in her ear, whispering her name, but the tears kept flowing. What was she dreaming of? Pet? She had been having a few too many Pet memories for me to be uninterested. This had been going on for days. I know she hasn't been in Pet's body long, but shouldn't the memories . . . I don't know, fade? She keeps telling me it's normal, and I bet it is, but I'm still fretful.

"Wanda?" I cradled her head in my lap. She began to stir. "Wanda!"

"I-Ian?" I let the air I'd been holding out of worry go.

"Wanda, honey, I'm right here." She looked so sad. Her eyes were red and puffy; she was sniffling.

She buried her flaming face into my neck; I wrapped my arms around her waist in comfort. I could feel the heat emanating from her cheek, warming my neck.

"Morning." I shivered when her lips grazed my neck.

I laughed. "Good morning, Wanda."

Sweet Wanda. How could anyone not like her? She was selfless and caring. Even when she almost took herself out of my life forever - I winced - she was only thinking of Jared's Melanie. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't made it in time. I tried not to think about that often.

I swept away a few loose strands of blonde curls from her face, letting my finger brush against her cheek then whispered right into her ear, "Will you tell me why you were crying?" I felt her face catch fire again. She pulled back a little, assessing my face. Her grey eyes were soft. She kissed my nose.

She tried to shake it off as though it was nothing - typical Wanda. "Oh, just another memory about Pet's mother." My eyebrows knitted together.

I frowned. "Another one?" I didn't like that - not at all.

"It's normal, Ian. Don't worry, even though you are good at it." She touched my cheek lovingly.

Silly Wanda thought I worried too much. Maybe I did. We O'Shea's have a long line of overprotectiveness. Better overprotective than . . . not? She could call me all the silly names she was - worry wart, Mr. Overprotective - but as long as she was safe, I didn't care.

I nodded anyways, not exactly believing that. How long did it take for the memories to fade? I hated for her to go through that. Even though she said it was nothing, I knew it was something; it was effecting her. Crying when she slept, whimpering as she daydreamed - it made me scared. What if they never went away, what if it was Melanie all over again. Calm down, O'Shea, I thought. This is nothing like that.

"Time for work," Wanda whispered, her cute little voice echoing through _our _room.

She got up - only standing about five feet tall - and reached for my hand. Yeah, I snorted, like she could help me up.

"Do we have to?" I whined. I was having a terrific morning and to let something like work ruin that would be wrong.

She laughed. I sighed. Her laugh was like music. Tiny bells that made my heart race. Her full, pink lips were raised in an adorable smile.

"Come on - get ready." She tried to help me up but it ended up me doing all the work. I was twice her size. She was so dainty, she could fit inside of my pocket.

As I got ready I watched Wanda. Her mouth was set in a frown, her eyebrows knit together. She was thinking about something deeply. And I knew what it was: Working in the fields. Wanda had been hustling me for her job back ever since she was reinserted. Even though I laughed as I refused her plea, I was panicking inside. Little Wanda, working with sharp hoes and shovels. What if she hurt herself. I wouldn't be able to live if something - or someone - hurt her. I shuddered.

I saw that she was done unpacking, her lips still frowning. A smile grew on my face as I lifted her chin and kissed her right on the mouth. Even though it only lasted a second, fire blazed. She pouted when I pulled away

I laughed. "Oh, Wanda." I started into her silver eyes, getting lost into them, which made me think of something serious.

"Keep yourself safe. Don't go wandering off and get hurt. Please." Please, I said again in my mind. I kissed the top of her blonde curls then headed off to the field.

I met Jared and Mel halfway.

As always, they were walking hand in hand. It was hard to believe that they had ever been separated. The love that emanated from their faces was just proof that no matter what, love conquers all. Cliché, I know. They fit together, like puzzle pieces or magnets. It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago it had been Wanderer that had inhabited that body. I had loved the expressions on that face, the way it moved. But now - nothing. There was nothing that that body could offer me.

"Hey, Ian," Jared laughed. "You look worried."

I sighed. "Wanda wants to work in the field again." I heard Melanie take in a sharp breath.

"No! No way! Out of the question." The corners of my mouth fought to turn upward into a smile. Ever since Mel and Wanda separated, they had been sisters. Mel was very protective over her, which was good for me. Another person on my side to keep Wanda far away from the field and possible.

"That's what I told her, but she's a stubborn thing." Jared nodded without thinking.

Working in the field wasn't actually that bad. We alternated jobs often, so everyone got a taste of the work. Today I was bringing around the water, which I thought was ridiculous. Me? Bringing people water? I liked planting and plowing. The feel of the dirt between my dry fingers. The sweat dripping down my face, telling me that I have helped us live. But I brought everyone their water without complaining. The next thing I knew, it was lunch.

I raced to the kitchen. Wanda was kneading some dough, looking bored as ever. But as soon as she saw me, she dropped her project and ran straight toward me, smile giant on her tiny face. She's perfect, I thought as I was spinning her in circles. I wrapped my arm around her waist, keeping her close to me. What if she were to trip? The kitchen was dangerous but it was the only place where I could have her. I cringed every time I imagined her plowing the field. Sharp objects being carelessly thrown to the ground.

"How are you?" she asked, her small teeth white and gleaming.

"Hot and sweaty." I swear my smile was as big as her cute little head.

As we ate lunch I tried not to think of her working in the fields. Wanda's blonde curls bobbed up and down as she told be how _boring _it was to work in the kitchen. About how she wanted to actually help out life in the cave. No matter how many times I told her that making bread was very important part of living, so would always tell me field work was more important - she actually meant harder, I think.

It was too soon when we started to clean up. I saw the fake enthusiasm in Wanda's eyes when Mel talked about bread making.

"I know you don't like working in there," I said after Mel and Jared had started back toward the field, " but it's the safest place for someone of your stature."

She sighed. I could practically see the gears turning. "Is it? I mean, I could easily slip and hit my head on the oven, or maybe burn my hand, or even cut off a few fingers. The kitchen is a dangerous place."

She was so adorable. Trying to come up with reasons to let her come with me. So I bit. "You're right." Her eyes grew bigger - with joy no doubt. "Maybe we should just store you in a box with packaging peanuts for the rest of your life; you couldn't be hurt then."

The pout she gave almost crumbled my will power. "Fine, _fine." _I breathed a sigh of relief.

I kissed her on the nose before heading after Jared and Mel. I caught sight of Jeb walking toward the kitchen. That's never good.

"Hey, Jeb," I said, trying to sound polite.

"Ian."

"Where you headed to?" I tried to sound uninterested, or maybe nonchalant, but he could tell I was lying.

He smiled, enjoying this. "Oh, I was just going to see Wanda." I couldn't tell if he was lying.

"Keep her safe, alright." Just in case he wasn't lying, he could help me out.

He waved before going on his way.

I was almost to the entrance of the field when I heard the most terrifying, blood pumping, lung bursting, heart shattering scream I have ever heard in my life.

_Wanda! _

**Sorry it took so long. School makes me busy. Hope you like this chapter. **


	3. Free Falling

**Wanda POV**

You know when you're dreaming of falling. Your arms are tingling - heck, your whole body is tingling with the fear of hitting the bottom. You feel weightless and small. You feel so fragile that even the tiniest touch could break you. But then you wake up in one piece, perfectly safe in your bed, just the left over sensation of the fall lingering in your tissues. Some might even sit up and look around just to make sure they were dreaming. The point is they were, I am not.

This was all wrong. Everything was suppose to be in slow motion. A montage of the people you love, your life flashing before your eyes. But that's all a lie. I was falling, and I was falling fast. I could hear screams, though. The screams of the people I loved, my family. Jeb's voice was by far the loudest; what ever he was shouting must have been important but I couldn't understand, it sounded like static on a retro television.

The impact was the worst, something that I hadn't had time to prepare for. First there was a crunch - the crunch of every single rib in my body shattering. Second came a scream - mine, of course. Third - well, third is hard to explain. The pain was like lava, moving toward my skull, but that wasn't the worst part. It was the heat. I knew that when I'd walked up that ladder it hadn't been this hot but I could feel beads of sweat trickling down my face. My legs were numb - thank goodness- I don't think I could bear that - that being another pain to deal with. I kept screaming. After telling myself countless times to _stop! that's not making it any better! _I just couldn't take my own advice. Screaming was the only way to forget the pain.

Two strong arms came out of nowhere and cradled my head. Cold hands wiped some limp strands of hair out of my eyes. I could tell that the hand was shaking. Did I look that bad? Suddenly, I could hear and what I hear just about broke my heart.

"Wanda! Oh, no, no, no! Wanda, wake up! You have to wake up!" It was Ian. His trembling voice was strained like he was fighting tears. All I wanted to do was wrapped my arms around his waist and sleep, brushing his cheek with my fingers, telling him I was alright. But I couldn't because I wasn't alright, I was broken.

"Wanda, please," he continued to moan. I sob choked in the back of my throat. "Wanda? Wanda!"

I mustered up some air and groaned, "Ian."

"I'm right here, Wanda. I'm right here." Then he wasn't talking to me. "Doc! Someone go get Doc - stop standing around!"

"Ian?" My back was throbbing; I could barely breathe. The pressure was becoming too much.

"You're okay. You are going to be okay." He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than me.

"Ian it hurts." Another sob broke through my normally calm facade.

Ian's finger lightly stroked my cheek, wiping the fallen tears away. His soft lips brushed my forehead and heat instantly flooded through me. No matter what condition, whether it be whole or broken, Ian seemed to always have that affect on me. The gentlest touches seemed to make my pulse speed up - call it love, but it always happened.

"Wanda!" It wasn't Ian who called this time - it was Doc. "Oh my goodness, child!"

Something poked my side, I took a sharp intake of breath. Ian hissed. "You're hurting her!"

"Quiet, Ian. Let me . . . " He stopped. "Help me get her to the hospital."

Suddenly, I was airborne again, held against Ian's chest. I yelped in pain. He was gripping my back!

"M - my - " I took another painful breath "- my back!"

"I know, Wanda. I'm sorry. We have to get you to the hospital, and fast."

I was slipping again, slipping into a wave of unconsciousness. But I didn't want to tumble down that never ending black pit, it was too awful. Too dark. I could feel myself shivering. Ian was yelling commands at passing cave-dwellers - something about more blankets. I wasn't cold, I tried to tell him. I am afraid. Afraid that I won't wake up if I drift, afraid that I will never see him again if I tumble, afraid that this was it, my time on this Earth was over. I didn't know what afterlife awaited me. Ian talked about a heaven, but I was no human, therefore I could not possible end up in any heaven. We had - my kind - taken over millions of creatures homes - yes, I would not be greeted into a heaven of any sort.

Someone was lying me down. Ian's strong arms gently rolled me onto my stomach, lifting up the back of my damp t-shirt. He took a sharp intake of breath. Was I that bad?

"Doc," Ian croaked. I could tell he was crying. "Hurry! Doc, come here. _Now!_"

I had never heard Ian be so determined before - barking orders left and right, grabbing people here and there. I was proud. Yes, I Wanderer, in my invalid and broken condition, was proud that my Ian was taking charge. Was that sad? Maybe it was some final request: Ian becoming the leader. If I died right now I hoped that he would learn of how proud I was.

Something hot and sharp prodded at my broken ribs. I screamed in pain. It was like nothing I had felt before. The falling was bad, yes, and the landing ten times worse, but this was different. I knew that I was broken beyond repair. We had needed to go on a raid for medicine for some time now, and we had nothing here to help me. No, Heal, no, No Pain - nothing. And I hated it.

Something grabbed my hand, squeezing it, like it was trying to keep away the pain. Ian. Slowly, I turned my head to face him. Slitting my eyes, I looked upon his heart shattering face.

He was sweating, his face red as a beat. His beautiful lips were pulled in a tight line. Tears left a trail on his dirty face. His gorgeous blue eyes were red and puffy. His hair a tousled mess. He was gripping my hand with such strength that, if I wasn't suffering from several broken bones, might have cause me some pain, but now it was just good to feel some sort of pressure.

"Ian," I mumbled, not even knowing if that made since.

"Wanda." He sounded relieved. His free hand - that one that wasn't keeping mine in a death grip - gently stroked my cheek. I leaned into it, making it cup my face. His hands were giant and rough with callous, but right now, they felt as soft as a cloud.

"Ian," I muttered again, clearer this time. "I love you."

"Don't say that like you're saying goodbye," he repeated the same words he said to me the night he figure out I was leaving, giving Melanie her body back.

"I love you so much, Ian," I continued. If I didn't wake up from the sleep I was about to lull into, I wanted him to know how I really felt. "You were always so kind to me, even when you wanted me dead; I never blamed you. That time when we were playing soccer in the game room, I knew you were letting me win, and I never figure out why until now." Tears were freely falling down my face now. "I was so scared when I saw what you all did in the hospital while I wasn't around. When I ran away I was hoping you would follow me. And you did. Even though it didn't seem like it, I can't tell you how much better I felt when you were sitting in there with me. Then, after I had made up my mind to let Melanie go, to give her her life back, I was afraid to leave you - I didn't want to leave you." Ian was crying too, now.

"I'm not going to let you die," he hissed, but it didn't even sound remotely close to venom, just fright that I might not come back. "You are not going to leave me like this, Wanderer! I love you. Please, please don't leave me."

But I wasn't finished. "I never got to thank you for saving me - for not letting Doc kill me, that is. I had no idea what would become of you, all I knew was that I didn't want to be a parasite any more. But when I opened my eyes as Pet and saw you, I knew that I would be alright." I smiled but it must have looked like a scowl.

"I love you, Ian," I said one final time.

"No, NO! Wanda! _NO!_" But I was already gone.

**Sorry for the long wait. I have no idea when the next chapter will be up, but I will not stop this story. So thank you for waiting, those of you who did. Hope you liked it. I almost started crying! **


	4. Stranded

**Ian POV: **

I ran. Something overwhelmed me, maybe the sickening snap that echoed down the caves halls, or the heart breaking screams of the one I loved, but the next thing I knew, I was flying into the central hall, where I was met with the most horrific sight my eyes had ever witnessed.

My Wanda lying below the mirror cleaning ladder, unmoving, the rising and falling of her chest almost nonexistent. A river of blood was pooling by her blonde hair. Her right arm was bent in an unnatural poison. Her legs looked unbrusied but possible fractured - then again, I was no doctor. Something was sticking out from the side of her shirt. I quickly jogged over to where we was lying and lifted the battered T.

I took a sharp breath intake; I wanted to faint. Her rib was protruding my soft skin. Broken. On purpose, I had saved her face for last. Fast tears were sliding down her closed eye lids. Sharp breaths could be heard from where I was sitting. Her pale pink cheeks was splotches with blood that trickled down her slitted mouth. Another sob raked through me.

Why? Why her? Why the only person I live for? _Why?_

I had to take her away; I had to get her away from all these people - these people that didn't care less what happened to Wanda. These were the people who wanted her dead, even after we proved her one of us. These were the people that are beaming at the fact that she might not survive this . . . accident. I flinched. I looked at those around me. _Had _this been an accident? A mere slip of the foot or loss of balance. I glanced at Jeb. He would let any harm come to her, would he? No, no, of course not. From the beginning he was the man that kept us all away from her. Jeb would not let anything like this happen on purpose. Plus, he looked like a father that's daughter just died. Falling apart. He loved her like one of his own. He would never hurt her in any way.

"Wanda! Oh, no, no, no! Wanda, wake up! You have to wake up!" My vision was blurred with tears. I couldn't even see the my own hand in front of my face.

"Wanda, please," I sobbed, not bothering to hold back. My life was dying before my eyes and there was nothing I could do about it. That's when I heard a quiet cry. I looked down to see a pair of beautiful grey rings looking at me; the expression of pain clouding them.

"Ian," her angelic voice croaked. My heart just about shattered. I hated to see her like this - unmoving, barely breathing . . . broken.

"You're okay. You are going to be okay," I muttered over and over again, reassuring myself more than her.

"Ian, it hurts." She cried out again. Tears were streaming down my face. Wanda never owned up to any injure, no matter how small. Once when we were playing soccer, the ball was kicked - by Kyle no less - with so much force that she was thrown into the goal box, smashing her arm on the goal post. Everyone rushed over to find her, not only not crying, but laughing. Little did we know that the goal post had broken her arm. Only did I find out later because she refused to eat with her right arm - the arm that had been smashed. She never cried once because of that. This was bad. And it was all my fault.

If I had stayed with her, watched her more carefully, she wouldn't be here, bleeding to death with all of these people who cared less about her. Maybe I should have let her work in the field today, she could handle it. Sure, she might get a scratch here or there, maybe a bruise, but she wouldn't end up like this - no, not with me there supervising her. When she was telling me about the dangers of the kitchen, she had been right, but I was just too stubborn to admit that. And this was what I get. The love of my life, my reason for existing dying.

Tears were falling down her face now; I brushed them away with my finger, gently lingering on her cheek. Then I ducked my head and lighted kissed her sweating forehead. I felt heat under my touch. Wanderer, in a broken and probably delirious stage, was blushing under my kiss. And nothing made me happier. I loved that I could make her blush with just the softest of touches, but I knew she hated it. I guess you can call it love.

"Wanda!" I whipped around to find Doc frantically running toward me. He stopped in front of me, coming to an abrupt halt. "Oh, my goodness child," he breathed in horror. I sent him a terrifying glare.

He crouched down next to me, setting his bag of medical supplies next to Wanda's twitching body. He pulled some plastic gloves on and lifted the rest of her shirt up. It was just as bad as the half I had peaked at. He started prodding around her stomach, the place where I had seen the broken ribs, when Wanda took a sharp breath.

"You're hurting her!" I hissed taking on of her lip hands in one of my strong ones. She w_as _going to be okay, even if it was the last thing I do.

Doc scolded me. "Quiet, Ian. Let me . . . ," he trailed off, deep in thought. "Help me get her to the hospital."

I wrapped my arms around her once more, pulling her to my chest. She yelped in pain. What? What did I do?

"M - my - " She was struggling to breath. A couple more steps, just a few more. " - my back!"

Of course! She had fallen from - what? - ten, fifteen feet onto her back. I loosened my grip, though I had to fight all my protective instincts telling me to pull her close to my chest and never let her go, but that would not help the cause.

I watched as her eyes fluttered, opening and closing. She was fighting the urge to drift off. She didn't want to sleep. Did she think that she would not wake up? If Wanda left me, I don't know what I would do. Before her, I was angry. Angry at the parasites for taking over my home, my family. Angry at my parents for leaving us - even if it wasn't their fault. Angry at Kyle for trying to kill Wanda in the washroom that one day - though she still won't tell me what actually happen, I have a pretty good image. Angry at myself for ever hating Wanda and trying to kill her. Angry at Wanda for almost leaving me to give Melanie her body back - I guess you could say that would make me angry at Mel at one point. But I could never stay angry for long.

We had made it to the hospital - thank goodness. Thankfully the crowd of uninterested cavedwellers had left us back in the main hallway. I slowly and carefully placed Wanda, back side up, on a cot right next to the door; the sooner she was treated the better. She moaned as I released her. Doc had walked over to the cabinet that held all of our stolen medicine. He turned deathly pale.

"What now, Doc?" I asked quietly; I didn't want Wanda knowing.

"We are out of Heal and No Pain," he said in a hushed voice. I was now angry at Doc.

"_No . . ._ ," I moaned. I didn't have the strength to yell at him.

I turned back to Wanda, who was lying so still I could barely tell she was breathing. I lifted the back of her shirt up. I took in a breath of pure fear. Black and purple splotches cover her lower half. Anyone just passing by could tell that every rib was broken - no doubt about it. More tears streamed down my face.

"Doc," I chocked, wiping tears out of my eyes. "Hurry! Doc, come here. _Now!"_

Doc ran over with a sharp, silver medical tool - something I did not know the name of - and started making small incisions around her shattered ribs. She screamed. A sound that I hoped I never had to heard. I was becoming dizzy from the tears that were pouring out of my eyes. I reached over and grabbed her hand, stroking her palm with my thumb.

She slowly turned her head so that she was facing me. "Ian." I could barely make it out, but I was certain that was what she said.

"Wanda." I was so relieved I could have laughed. With the hand I wasn't using to stroke her fingers, I carefully brushed her cheek, cupping it in between my fingers. Her cheek was soft like a baby's and pink like a ballerina. The pain in her eyes was clearly visible but so was an emotion I couldn't quite place. Contentment?

"Ian," she said again, clearer this time. "I love you."

A fat tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. "Don't say that like you're saying good bye." I couldn't help but remember that dreadful night when I realized that Wanda was going to give herself up to save Melanie. I had said those same eight words, and I have never meant them more than I do right now.

"I love you so much, Ian," she continued. "You were always so kind to me, even when you wanted me dead; I never blamed you. That time when we were playing soccer in the game room, I knew you were letting me win, and I never figure out why until now." Tears were freely falling down my face now. What was she doing? I would not let her die! "I was so scared when I saw what you all did in the hospital while I wasn't around. When I ran away I was hoping you would follow me. And you did. Even though it didn't seem like it, I can't tell you how much better I felt when you were sitting in there with me. Then, after I had made up my mind to let Melanie go, to give her her life back, I was afraid to leave you - I didn't want to leave you." Wanda was crying now, too. How could she think that I would not find a way to save her? She _was _going to survive this.

"I'm not going to let you die!" I growled, but it sounded closer to a man on the verge of losing everything than anything close to dangerous. "You are not leaving me like this, Wanderer! I love you. Please, please don't leave me!"

But she wasn't finished. "I never got to thank you for saving me - for not letting Doc kill me, that is. I had no idea what would become of you, all I knew was that I didn't want to be a parasite any more. But when I opened my eyes as Pet and saw you, I knew that I would be alright." She tried to smile and my heart broke into more pieces. She couldn't even smile.

Then she looked at me, like this was the last time she would ever see me. Memorizing my face, committing it to memory. No! She can't leave me stranded like this.

"I love you, Ian," she mumbled for the last time.

"No, NO! Wanda! _NO!" _But she was already gone.

**Did you like it? Or was it too weepy weepy. I mean, I was crying, but I was also writing it. Review! Thank you.**


	5. Resurface

**Wanda POV**

I was floating, or at least that's what it felt like. Was this death, I can't help but wonder. Because, if it is, I don't really mind dying. It was peaceful. All the pain and tears were gone. I felt free, like nothing was holding me back anymore. But, for some reason, I felt empty. Something was missing from this perfect purgatory.

_Ian._

Where was my Ian? How was he doing? _What _was he doing? I try and think of the last time a saw him - it fells like days ago. His liquid blue eyes red and puff from tears that were silently falling down him cheek. His tousled, dark hair in totally disarray. He had looked so unlike himself. Sad with grief. Worried and pained. Like a man who was realizing what he had to lose. My dear Ian, don't grieve for me. Isn't knowing our love for each other enough? I don't want to go back to that unbearable pain again, but I miss you. I hope you know that. And I love you; I will always love you.

This feeling was strange. Suddenly it wasn't so peaceful anymore but uncomfortable. I needed Ian's arms around me, pulling me closer to him when I try and wake him up for work. I need to feel Ian's kisses on my forehead as he leaves me in the kitchen after lunch break. I need to hear his booming laughter fill the halls was a shy blush creeps up on me. I need to feel the pressure of his hand cradling mine as we walk back to our room after a long day. I need to see his clear, always understanding, full of love, sapphire eyes. I need to feel his soft lips on mine. I need my Ian back.

So I try, I try to wake up. But I can't, and I don't know why. Panicking, I start to realize that I might be stuck like this forever. Oh, Ian. I'm sorry. I know I promised forever, and I meant it. I never meant to leave you. How are you handling this? Badly I suspect. My Ian, I am trying so hard for you. I want to wake up, to be with you. I promise I'll never complain about work anymore. I'll behave and go to the kitchens with Lily and make bread for the rest of my life. I promise I'll never laugh at your protectiveness again because I know you are doing it because you love me and never want to see me hurt. I'm sorry I didn't listen.

Suddenly, it was as though a weight had been lifted. I tried again.

". . . . . don't have any left, Ian!" someone said, sounding frustrated like they had already talked about this.

"Doc, please, _please, _I can't - I can't live without her." His voice nearly killed me. So broken and hoarse. How long had he been crying? Ian, I never wanted any of this to happened.

I heard Doc sigh. "Ian, I know. Jared and the others are doing as much as they can."

"They left two days ago! They should be back by now." Ian rubbed his thumb across my broken knuckles.

Two days? I'd been holding on to my small life for two days? It couldn't have been that long since my fall. There is no possible way that my small body managed to stay alive all one it's own. What were they pumping through my veins to keep my heart beating?

" . . . going as fast as they can. You aren't the only one that cares about Wanda, Ian." Doc was getting frustrated.

If I could have smiled it would have. My family was here. People I could trust and love, and they would feel the same. While I live here I am not a parasite, but a person. A person that people want to talk to and not try and kill. I had found my partner here. Earth was my home, and if I was going to die, I was glad it was with people I loved.

Ian didn't say anything after that, he just continued to stroke my cheek and occasionally kiss my forehead or whisper that he loved me into my ear.

I wanted to cry, but I felt so detached from my own body at the moment I couldn't even wiggle my finger. Just hearing Ian so broken and miserable made me want to jump in his arms and yell, "I'M KIDDING!" Then have him reprimand me for putting him in such a state, but then he'd take me in his arms and we'd go back to our room. We would kiss and hug and this nightmare would be over, but the reality was still here, and I couldn't do anything about it.

For what seems like hours, Doc and Ian were silent. Until there was a loud crash from the hallway.

"What in the -" Doc started to say but was cut off when another booming voice bellowed.

"THEY ARE BACK!"

I felt Ian jump to his feel instantly, rush out of the hospital, only to return several minutes later with two other people.

"How is she," one of the voices I recognized as Melanie whispered.

Instead of answering, Ian said, "Did you get the medicine?" He sounded desperate.

The second voice sighed, it was Jared. "They were out of mostly everything, but we managed to snatch No Pain, Heal, Awake - three bottles of each."

Ian made a strangled sound. "Thank you! Thank you! _Doc!_"

I felt my shirt being lifted up. There were several sharp intakes.

"Well, damn," Jared breathed.

"The No Pain, please," Ian demanded, taking charge.

I didn't need the No Pain. I felt as peaceful as I did while in my dream state. But Ian didn't know that so of course that would be the first thing he asked for. He hated to see me in any pain, whether it be from a splinter to a broken arm.

The misty substance tickled my nose. I took a deep breath, just to satisfy Ian.

Next was heal. Now, I haven't seen what the damage of my fall was, but, judging by the height at which I fell and the sound of my bones being crushed, I guessed that Doc would have to use all three bottles of Heal to fix the damage that had been inflicted on my back. The medicine felt cold. It settled over my back like dew, cool and wet. It felt good. An autable sigh escaped my lips.

"Wanda?" Ian's breath washed over my face. "Honey, can you hear me?"

I was coming back. My fingers could wiggle, my legs weren't numb. My breath was picking up, too. My heartbeat getting stronger. Two of Ian's hands were cradling one of mine. I closed my fingers around his thumb. He stopped breathing. He rubbed a piece of blonde hair out of my eyes.

"Wanda?"

"Ian."


	6. Drowning

**Ian's POV**

I was drowning, slowly suffocating under crashing waves. My eyes sight was blurred, my breath shallow and ragged, barely any oxygen reaching my screaming lungs. But I was running. Running like I've never run before. Even faster than when I was in the sixth grade, during a track meet. I was the fastest running my school had ever seen, bringing in a whopping 5:43.3 minute mile. Everyone had been cheering for me: my mom clinging to my father and Kyle shouting, "That's my brother!" It was my proudest moment. But this was different. There were no cheering fans, no mother or father, no metal at the end. This was much, much worse.

People kept trying to block my way as I sprinted down the hallways, blindly finding my way to the Hospital. Oh, Wanda! You can't leave me. You promised you wouldn't leave me. As I look down on her broken body, more tears race down my face. I could tell from how I was holding her - and the height at which she fell - that all her ribs were broken, and they may or may not be puncturing vital organs. Her left leg was twisted at an odd angle and blood was gushing out of her knee. Her knuckles were slightly swollen but majorly bruised. I hug her a little closer to my chest.

This is all my fault. If I had just let her come work in the field with me this would have never happen; she would have never felt the need to go up that ladder. What was I thinking? Of course she should work with me. Then Melanie, Jared, and myself would be able to look after her and make sure she didn't hurt herself. I'm foolish. And of course Wanda was also right about what she said could happen in the kitchen. Who is there to protect her from hitting her head on the oven, or accidentally cutting herself with a knife? Lily wouldn't be able to do anything, maybe call for help but what if it was too late?

My Wanda. Why did it have to be my Wanda? Hasn't she been through enough? It's just her luck, though. If anything bad were to happen to anyone it would be my Wanda. She is so kind and gentle; she always cares about the welfare of others. I've never seen her raise her voice or speak ill of anyone when she has every right to. Even Kyle - who, I admit, has come to like Wanda - who had tried to kill her a while back, she voted on him to stay in the cave. I can't say the same about anyone else. So why Wanda? What did she do to deserve this?

I kicked the Hospital door open to a very surprised Doc. He hesitates for only a second, drinking in my appearance, gasping loudly when his eyes land on Wanda's prone figure laying in my arms. He gestures to the nearest cot.

Carefully I lay her, facedown, on the cot. A few wisps of blonde hair falls over her eyes I gently tuck them behind her ear, my hand lingering on her pale cheek.

Doc hasn't said a word, just gaping at the sight.

"Help me," I croak.

That seems to break him out of his trance. Was it the desperation in my voice, or maybe the misery in my eyes? Or is it the fact that I never want help, I never _need _help. But right now I'd do anything.

Doc takes in a deep breath, a breath that indicates bad news. "We are out of everything."

A strangled sound emanates from my throat.

_Everything. _How could we be out of _everything! _Suddenly the world is fading around me, and I can no longer stand. I fall to the floor, my head in my hands, and sob. "We have to - to do something!"

I look up to see Doc with silent tears gliding down his cheeks, looking at me in a new way.

Before I came to the caves, I'd only every cried twice. Once, when Kyle and mine dog named Arctic died. I had cried for days because Arctic had been my best friend. I was only seven at the time. I don't remember seeing Kyle shed a tear, but there were a few times he would come out of his room with red rings around his eyes. And Two, when Kyle and I had to run because our parents were gone. But this topped them all. I was shaking with sobs, rocking back and forth trying to think of something, _anything, _that would make this better. And I did think of one thing: _Wanda. _Only one person could make me feel better, and that was the person I was crying for.

I'm not sure how long I sat on the cold, unforgiving, cave floor. But eventually Jared burst into the room, Melanie in tow. When I looked up, I could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and there were hints of old tears on her dusty face. She imminently saw Wanda, more tears fell down her face. Running over to me, she hugged me hard.

Jared, on the other hand, look determined. There was no sign of sadness on his face, except for his eyes. He tried to hide it, but I could see the emotions playing behind his brown orbs. Not even acknowledging Doc, he squatted down in front of me. "Are you ready to do something about it."

I was done waiting. It had been two days and Jared had not returned from his raid to get medicine. I'm still unclear of what his plan was because I was too busy stroking Wanda's cold cheek to pay him any attention. All I picked up was that Mel and he were going to break into a hospital and grab anything they touched. I wasn't optimistic about it.

As I lay next to Wanda, hugging her close as I dared without hurting her further, I started thinking of the day Kyle tried to kill her. What am I saying. When did Kyle not try to kill her? That one day when I was almost too late to save her.

I had been minding my business, helping out in the kitchen a little bit,getting some food to bring back to the hospital where Doc and Jared were watching Walter. I had almost made it half way there when I heard the most terrible cry for help. Immediately I dropped the two trays of food and ran. Luckily I had the gun with me, Jeb had asked me to keep it so Kyle wouldn't try and find it. But I couldn't remember where the scream had come from. I was helpless, until I heard it again. It sounded desperate.

If he hurts her, I remember not being able to finish my threat. When I arrived at the river room I was surprised at the very least.

"Wanda?" I had called.

"Ian!" Never had I been so relieved to hear her voice, but I didn't have time to think about that. The floor was caving in.

Wanda was hugging a column, trying to keep my idiot brother from falling. I told her to give him to me and squeeze out. We were so close, practically nose to nose. My whole body was on fire. Somehow we managed to make it out of there alive.

She looked so vulnerable. She was wet and shaking, either from fright or the cold I still don't know. She was stubborn and refused to tell me the truth, but that's okay, I knew what had happened anyway. When I pulled her into my arms, I held her so tight. I was never going to let her go. My body was on fire again. Where her hand was on my chest, I swear there were flames. That was when I promised myself I would protect her no matter what. And here we are.

I was getting frustrated with the amount of time Jared had been gone. I just blew up.

"They left two days ago! They should be back by now!" I yelled, rubbing my fingers against Wanda's bruised knuckles.

Doc let out an irritated breath. "They are going as fast as they can. You aren't the only one that cares about Wanda, Ian."

Yes, I thought. But I'm the only one that won't be able to live without her. I looked down at my sleeping Wanda. She didn't look peaceful, instead she look a little sad. I wondered if she could hear me. As I continued to stroke her cheek, I whispered, "I love you. Please don't leave me." Then I kissed her icy forehead. She will make it. She _has _to make it, otherwise, I have nothing else to live for.

I sat there for hours, doing nothing but kiss her head and feeling her cheeks and whispering how much I loved her. Finally, a crash came from the hallways. I jerked into a standing position. Doc looked at me uneasily.

"What the -"

"THEY'RE BACK!"

Without hesitating, I ran out of the hospital. Jared and Melanie were sprinting down the hallway, hand in hand. I held the door open for them, racing after them.

Melanie took one look at Wanda and said, "How is she?"

I wanted to scream with joy. They were here! Wanda is going to be okay!

"Did you get the medicine?" Doc asked, disregarding Mel's question.

Jared held out the backpack filled with medicine. "They were mostly out of everything," he said, "but we managed to get No Pain, Heal, and Awake - three of each."

A gargling sounds erupted in the back of my throat. "Thank you! Thank you!" I wanted to kiss them I was so drunk with relief. "_Doc!"_

When Doc lifted up Wanda's shirt, I swear I almost fainted. It looked worse than it had yesterday. The book was drying, only to be replaced by new fresh blood, seeping though the bandage we wrapped around her.

"Well, damn," Jared breathed, taking in Wanda's wounds. It was worse than he had thought. Mel had a hand over her mouth, but her eyes displayed the horror of what she was seeing.

Taking charge I demand, "No Pain, please." I needed to make sure she wouldn't feel anything anymore. She must have been going through hell these last few days.

Once I was satisfied, Doc took the can of Heal. We all realized that all three of the bottles would have to be used. When the first can was empty, I heard a soft sigh.

"Wanda? Honey, can you hear me?" I put my face right in front of hers. I seized one of her tiny hands in two of mine. Her fingers wiggles. I couldn't breathe. She wrapped my thumb in a cocoon of small fingers.

"Wanda?" Oh please, please wake up.

"Ian?"

My heart skipped a beat.


	7. Forever

**Wanda POV**

A single tear dripped down his disbelieving face. His crystal blue eyes hungrily scanned my face; he was beaming as if seeing the sun for the first time. A warm hand cradled my cheek, and soft lips touched my forehead. I closed my eyes at the pressure, a small smile gracing my lips. I was alive. I had made it. And they think I can't handle working in the fields. When I reopen my eyes, Ian is staring into them.

I smile. Ian stopped breathing. "Can I work in the fields now?"

He looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. "Anything." Then he kissed me.

Taken the state I was currently in, it wasn't the kind of welcome back kiss I was hoping for, but any kiss with Ian was enough to take my breath away. It was salty from a combination of our tears. His hand snaked around behind me, getting tangled in my blonde curls. I wrapped one of my arms around his neck but stopped when I was met with a prickly sensation. I pulled back to get a better look.

Ian's appearance was shocking. He obviously happened shaved since my incident. Now that I think about it, he probably hasn't left the hospital since he brought he here three days ago. His face was pale with a few stray tears, but his blue eyes were shinning. I was pretty sure he hadn't eaten either. I put my hand back on his scruffy cheek.

"You haven't been taking very good care of yourself." It wasn't a question.

His cheeks grew warm under my touch, but I saw a smile twitching around his lips. It suddenly hit me how much I missed Ian. Tears started to flow again. Ian looked startled.

"What's wrong? What hurts?" I wanted to laugh at his obliviousness, but the tears were coming in masses, and I couldn't control the sobs that wracked my small frame.

Strong arms wrapped around my shoulder; Ian pulled me to his chest. I held on to him like a lifeline. Never had I reacted this way to anything before. Ian carefully slide onto my cot. He was stroking my hair and rubbing circles on my shoulder - I noted that he was avoiding touching my back, which I found strange because he knew it was perfectly healed, but that's Ian - and holding me so tightly to his chest, as if to reassure himself that I wasn't going anywhere, that I was here and safe and his.

"Wanda," he breathed. I lifted my face to meet his gaze. His striking eyes filled with concern when he saw the last few tears escape. He rubbed them away with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

I instantly felt terrible for making Ian think I was still hurting. A small blush crept up on my cheek.

"I missed you."

Flashing the most breathtaking smile, Ian leaned in and said, "I missed you, too, my Wanderer." Then he kissed the tip of my nose.

I sighed contently until I remembered that there were other people in the room. Peaking around Ian, I saw Melanie being held by Jared. I sent her a small smile only to receive a scowl in return. She pulled away from Jared to the other side of Ian. Breaking our embrace, I moved over to Mel and wrapped by tiny arms around her neck. She hugged my middle, squeezing me as tightly as Ian had.

"Don't ever do something so stupid again. Do you hear me?" Mel tried to say sternly, but she sounded so relieved that I laughed.

"I'm sorry," I whispered back. "I just wanted to do something useful."

Melanie broke the hug, holding me at arms length. She was looking at me with an unrecognizable expression. Feeling uncomfortable with her scrutiny, another blush climbed my cheeks; my face felt warm. I could feel Ian's hand still circling my back. I knew there was no way he would ever let me out of his sight again.

After another minute of Melanie's inspections, I asked, "What are you doing?"

"Is that what this is about?" I didn't understand. So I asked what she meant.

She pursed her lips. "Wanda, just because you don't work in the field anymore doesn't change anything. You still belong here as much as Jared, or me, or Ian."

The comforting patterns being drawn on my back came to a stop as Ian took in what Melanie had said.

I shook my head. "I know that, Mel."

She didn't believe me because she narrowed her eyes. "I don't think you do. Then explain why you got on that ladder to clean the mirrors."

I bit the side of my cheek. How could I explain what I was feeling? It really wasn't that I thought I didn't belong; I knew I did. It was more that I wanted to help but couldn't. This body was restraining me from spending the day with the people I love. So what if I have to plow a few fields? If I can see Ian and Mel, and even Jared all day then it'd all be worth it. I liked pulling my own weight. I didn't want to be a burden. Baking bread was nothing; I finished before lunch and just sat around feeling pathetic. I could do so much more, I just know I could. But no one else seemed to think so. To them I was a delicate little flower that needed to be protected all the time, and thanks to my performance of cleaning the mirrors I am no closer to harder jobs than I was before. Actually, I was farther than before. They probably wouldn't even let me work in the kitchen now.

And so that's what I told them.

The first person to react was Ian. He wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his head on my shoulder. Kissing my cheek he whispered, "Why didn't you say anything?"

I turned in his embrace, so that now we were facing each other. His eyebrows were scrunched together leaving worried lines. I smoothed them away with my fingers. Bringing my hands down to either side of his face, I cradled his cheeks. His kind, sapphire eyes were staring into mine.

"Because I didn't want to worry you," I finally admitted, lowering my gaze. But Ian lifted my chin back up to look into his eyes again.

Gosh, I would go swimming in those deep, blue pools if it were possible. Looking into Ian's eyes was heaven for me. If it was the last thing on this earth I saw, there would be nothing to complain about. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and in Ian's case, it's true. Everything he is feeling I was able to unscramble from the way his eyes looked. Not that I'd ever tell him that.

"Wanderer," he started firmly - I always get chills when he says my full name, "telling me how you fell wouldn't worry me. Falling ten feet from a ladder worries me, more than worries me. It scared me straight. I thought you were going to died." His voice was gaining volume with each word. "I have no idea what would have happened if you had left me. You promised me forever, and damnit, that is one promise you have to keep." He was crying by the time he'd finished but that didn't stop him from crushing his lips to mine.

He put everything he'd been feeling the last few days into this kiss. I could taste his tears bringing a few of my own to the surface. How could he think I'd break my promise. I'd never leave him. Even if I had died today, I would have stayed with him. I could feel the fear and pain he had felt waiting for me to wake up. The desperation and hope that he had in Mel and Jared that they'd get back with medicine in time. The frustration with himself for letting me out of his sight for even a minute. When he broke the kiss, he kept his forehead against mine.

Once again I was staring into his bottomless eyes. He had both of my cheeks in his hands, and he was rubbing them with his thumbs. With feather like lightness, he pecked my nose.

"Forever," he breathed.

"Forever," I agreed.


	8. For Always

**I'd like to start by saying thank you. Thank you for sticking with this story when I had abandoned it; thank you for commenting and criticizing, telling me things you wanted to be included; thank you for reading. This will be the last real chapter. The next one will be an Epilogue. I already have it planned out and hope to be posting it tomorrow. Once again, thank you so much for following this story. (P.S if you have any suggestions for stories - I am primarily focused on Harry Potter but I'd do some more Host if it was with Ian and Wanda - feel free to PM me anytime.)**

**Ian POV**

Tears were freely flowing down my cheeks as I started into her silver eyes. Color was beginning to creep up her cheeks again; her lips were plump and pink. She looked nothing like the pale, lifeless body that had been laying on this cot just minutes ago. My giant hand cradled her fragile cheek. I leaned in to kiss her gently on her forehead. I closed my eyes as fire spread through my body. When I pull away there is still a touch of electricity on my lips. Wanda's eyes were closed as I continued to stroke her cheek.

I smiled when I saw her open her eyes. The grey was brimming with happiness. She returned the smile. "Can I work in the fields now?"

I was so relieved I could've laughed out loud. At that moment, if she had asked for all the stars in the sky I would have given them to her. "Anything," I whispered. Then I kissed her.

Noting Wanda's current situation, I couldn't kiss her as much as I would have liked. I couldn't take her in my arms and hold her so tight so that she understood I'd never let anything happen to her ever again. But any kiss with Wanda left my body blazing. With the combination of our tears, the kiss was salty. I pulled her closer to me by tangling my fingers in her blonde curls. She wrapped one of her arms around the back of my neck, fingering the matted, black locks that hung around my ears. She started to rub my cheeks but stopped.

She held me back at arms length and looked me over. I suddenly became self conscious. I must've looked like a mess. The only time I ever left Wanda's side over the last few days was to use the bathroom. I hadn't shaved, eaten, or showered in three days. I must of looked like a mess to her. But did she really believe I could leave her side for even a minute, not knowing if she were going to live or die.

She moved her soft, warm hand back down to my scruffy cheek, slowly stroking it with her thumb. "You haven't been taking very good care of yourself." It wasn't a question; she knew it was true.

For the first time in a long time I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Wanda was making me blush! No one had ever succeeded in doing that before. A twitch of a smile played around her pink lips. Then suddenly, out of the blue, Wanda burst into tears. I blinked in surprise.

I panicked. "What's wrong? What hurts?" Did we mess up the medicine process? We couldn't have missed anything. Wanda had to be okay. She just had to.

Instead of answering me, she started to shake as sobs wracked her body. Carefully, I slide onto her cot, lifting her into my arms. She grabbed onto my shirt with a vice grip, puller herself closer to me, snuggling into my chest. I soothed her hair and rubbed circles on her shoulder blade - I was sure to avoid her rib cage, incase she hadn't fully healed - and held her as tightly as I dared to my chest. She's fine, I keep telling myself over and over again. I was holding her, I had kissed her, she was breathing, well crying but that was better than nothing at all. Breathing in and out, I fought the urge to cry again.

"Wanda," I breathed. She lifted her heartbreaking face to meet my worried gaze. A few stray tears leaked out the corner of her puffy eyes. I gently rubbed them away with my thumb. "What's wrong?"

My heart just about broke in two as she stared at my face. Her eyes were puffy and swollen making the silver in her eyes strikingly vibrant. I traced her thin eyebrows with my pinkie. Her cheeks flushed with a blush.

She murmured, "I missed you."

Relived, I flashed a winning smiled then leaned in and whispered, "I missed you, too, my Wanderer." I brushed my lips to the tip of her nose.

She sighed with a lazy smile. A bit of confusion passed over her eyes before she leaned over my shoulder. I had forgotten that Jared and Mel were in the room with us. They had been very considerate in giving Wanda and me some privacy. I saw Wanda sent a small smile there way then Melanie rushed over to our side, pulling Wanda out of our embrace. I missed the pressure of her head in the crook of my neck.

Wanda threw her arms around Mel's neck while Melanie wrapped her's around Wanda's waist, pulling her in close.

"Don't ever do something so stupid again. Do you hear me?" Melanie sounded so relieved that she couldn't pull of the stern tone she was shooting for.

Wanda laughed weakly. "I'm sorry," she whispered loud enough for me to hear. I continued to rub her back. "I just want to do something useful."

Melanie pulled away from Wanda, holding her at arms length. I couldn't decode her expression. Disbelief? Shock? Anger? Wanda blushed under Mel's continual stare. What was she talking about not being useful? She helped in the kitchen everyday, staying before and after lunch. That was more than she should probably be doing anyway, in my opinion. People asked her to run errands frequently. "Hey, Wanda," they would start with an innocent voice, but already knew they were going to ask for a favor. She never refused and always smiled when accepting the task. She was so selfless.

"What are you doing?" Wanda's question broke me out of my thoughts.

"Is that what this is about?" I cocked my head to the side. What was she getting at?

Wanda didn't seem to understand either so she asked Melanie to explain.

Mel pursed her lips and said, "Wanda, just because you don't work in the field anymore doesn't change anything. You still belong here as much as Jared, or me, or Ian."

I finally saw what she was trying to say. The circles I had been drawing on Wanda's back abruptly stopped. Did she still feel that way? After everything she's been through, she should know that if anyone belonged here, it was her. She belonged here more than most of us humans actually.

"I know that, Mel," Wanda muttered, shaking her head.

Melanie obviously didn't believe her because she narrowed her eyes challengingly. "I don't think you do. Then explain why you got on that ladder to clean the mirrors."

That was a question that had been swimming around my head since I heard her terrifying scream. If I had told her she could work in the fields with me she would have never had the urge to clean those damn mirrors. But my stubborn Wanderer just wouldn't pass up an opportunity to help someone else out. Suddenly a surge of anger shot through my veins. Anger at Jeb for offering her to clean the mirrors in the first place; anger at myself for not listening to Wanda and letting her work with me, where I could keep a close eye on her; anger at Wanda for not thinking of other people when she climbed up five or so stories. How could she do that to me?

So she told us. She told us that it wasn't that she didn't belong but that she wanted to help more. That she _liked _to work. She told us how she hated that this body held her back from spending the day with us. She told us that she liked pulling her own weight and that she didn't want to feel like a burden. That baking bread was nothing; that she was finished before lunch even started. And that she just sat around feeling useless. She told us that she was stronger than she thought; that she wasn't some delicate flower that needed protecting - I almost laugh at that because of her current situation.

After she finished we all were silent, taking in what Wanda had just told us. I would be lying if I said I wasn't shocked. How could she feel that way but never tell anyone about it? She can't keep all of that bottled up inside because one day she will explode.

I scooted back over to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, laying my head on her shoulder. Kissing her cheek I breathed, "Why didn't you say anything?"

She turned to face me, smoothing the crease between my tightly knit eyebrows. She slid her silky hands down the side of my face, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She cradled my cheeks. She kind, honest, silver eyes were staring back into mine.

"Because I didn't want to worry you," she finally admitted, lowering her eyes. I grabbed the bottom of her chin and lifted up to meet my eyes.

I was staring into silver. Lost but warm. I could stare at Wanda's eyes all day. Any normal human would cringe or shy away from the silver of a soul, but it just drew me closer. They say eyes are the window to the soul, and in Wanda's case it is true. I can practically see the silver soul that I held only a few months ago. It was breath taking, like nothing I had ever seen before. When I looked in Wanda's eyes I could tell anyone what she was thinking at that exact moment. She was an open book. Not that I'd ever tell her that.

"Wanderer," I start firmly, "telling me how you feel wouldn't worry me. Falling ten feet from a ladder worries me, more than worried me. It scared me straight. I thought you were going to die." My voice was gaining volume, but I didn't care. She had to know how I felt. "I have no idea what would have helped me if you had left me. You promised me forever and, damnit, that is one promise you have to keep." Tears were falling freeing down my cheeks by the time I finished but that didn't stop me from crushing my lips to hers.

I put everything I had into that kiss. I could taste my salty tears mixed with a few of Wanda's escapees. I could feel Wanda's disbelief at what I had said. She would never leave me, that I was certain. I put the fear and the pain I had felt waiting for her to wake up. The desperation and hope that I had in Melanie and Jared that they would bring me medicine. The frustration that I felt when I realized that it was my fault that she had fallen because I had let her out of my sight for even a second. When I finally broke the kiss, I pressed my forehead against hers.

Once again I was lost in those silver rings. I had both of her cheeks in my hands, and I was rubbing them with my thumbs. Then I pecked her nose with feather like weight.

"Forever," I reminded her.

"Forever," she agreed.


	9. Epilogue

**Well this is it. Once again, thank you so much for sticking with me through this story. If you have any ideas for a next story I would love to take it into consideration. Signing off for the last time with this story.**

**Epilogue: **

Ian passed me another roll. It was the third one he had forced me to eat. But no matter how many times I told him I was full and that if I ate another bite I would explode, he insisted that I eat just one more. It tasted like cardboard and salt, but I ripped a huge chunk of it out just to humor him. Under normal circumstances, I would have fought him on this, but after everything I had put him through recently, I decided it was better to suffer this one in silence.

It had been exactly three weeks since Doc had finally let me out of the Hospital. And it had been about a month since Ian left my side. I didn't complain; I loved having him with me. He even let me work in the fields with him twice a week. Every time we walked anywhere together, he was touching me in some way. Hand on shoulder, arm around waist, arm around shoulder, it differed every outing. I knew he was still worried that I might be hurt. He didn't trust the medicine like Doc and I did. The instant the meds were applied to my injury I was as good as new. Ian was just paranoid, not that I blamed him. If the roles were reversed and he had fallen ten feet from a ladder, I couldn't have trusted any medication no matter how effective. I would've thought we'd over looked something.

While I continued to munch on my bread, Ian stroked my hair, making it hard to concentrate on what Melanie was saying. Something about soccer . . . or football? Some kind of ball. My eyes fluttered in exhaustion. My head was laying on Ian's chest, and I was slowly being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic beating of his heat. _Bum bum. Bum bum. Bum bum._

"Isn't that right, Wanda?" someone asked.

I was pulled out of my restful nap by the sound of my name. "Huh?"

My head vibrated from Ian's deep laughter. I raised my eyes to find him staring down at me with a smile, genuinely happy smile. I had never seen Ian happier than I had in these past three weeks. He was cracking more jokes, laughing longer and louder, smiling all day, I'd even woken up during the night once and saw him smiling in his sleep. When he was happy, I couldn't help but be happy either.

"Well, we should be getting to bed," I heard Ian say. "Tomorrow is a busy day."

Melanie muttered something that sounded like, "When isn't it?"

Ian scooped me up into his arms when I tried to stand. When I was about to complain, he put his fingers up to my lips like he did anytime I was about to make an argument I would lose. So, instead, I shrugged and snuggled deeper into his chest. He held me tightly to him. We didn't say anything on the way to our room. Well, that was probably because I was on the edge of sleep and Ian was considerate enough to let me doze off.

Ian gently set me on the mattress when we got into the room, only leaving my side to quickly close the door behind us. When he sat down next to me, he pulled me to his chest again. But this time it was different. He had something to tell me now. I just hugged him around the waist, waiting for him say something.

"Wanderer?" He was making sure I was still awake.

"Yes." I tried to sound as alert as possible, but that was quickly ruined by a long yawn.

He back tracked. "Nothing. You're tired. It can wait until the morning."

"No. Please tell me what's bothering you."

I raised my gaze to meet his. He was looking at me differently. With a new kind of gentleness, deeper than before. What was he thinking? About my fall again. I knew he thought of it constantly. Sometimes he would have nightmares jarring him from sleep, crying and calling out for me. When he found me in the dark, he'd hold on to me so tight I swear he'd never let go. He'd stroke my hair and my cheeks and say my name over and over again. He'd be crying, making me cry, too. We never talked about it in the morning, though. Just too tired to bring it up, I guess.

"I can't stop thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't survived," he whispered softly but with much passion. "I know I wouldn't be sitting here in this room. It'd be too painful. Someone would have to switch rooms with me. I keep trying to imagine myself living again. Actually taking on tasks like eating and working, but I draw a blank every time. Without you I'd be lost and alone." He had to stop because the flow of tears was too thick to continue.

I wiped my few away with the back of my hands then grabbed his cheeks, making him look me in the eyes.

"Ian, if something ever happens to me you have to live without me. You have to continue going through the motions - no, that's not good enough. You have to live." He started to protest, but I cut him off. "No, listen to me. If I were to get hurt again or to die - " Ian flinched. "you have to promise me that you'd do everything in your power to move on. You'd work and eat and shower without being told. You would do things like I was still here making you do them. You can't lose yourself just because I'm not around. Promise me, Ian." When he tried to turn his head, I made him stare into my eyes. "Promise me!" I sounded desperate.

His blue eyes just about broke my heart. They looked miserable and alone. The red rims were getting more vivid as tears leaked out the sides of his eyes. The ocean's were deep and dark with a stormy look to them. But he wasn't angry. No, he was just a man who had almost lost the love of his life.

"I can't." His voice broke. "You know I can't live without you. How could you ask me to do something so impossible? If you died - " Another voice break " - there would be nothing to hold me here anymore. Nothing to keep me from going outside and being taken by Seekers."

"No! Ian - " I started to interrupt. How _dare _he say something like that! But he held his fingers against my lips.

"Don't you understand that you are the only think I live for anymore. You are my whole world. Without you I wouldn't be me. I wouldn't be Ian O'Shea anymore. I'd just be a man who had nothing to live for anymore."

"Ian," I whispered before pulling his lips down on mine.

This kiss reminded me of our second kiss after I'd woken up. Hot fire blazed when our lips touched, warming up my whole body with electricity. My hands were tangled in his hair; his arms were pulling me closer to him. This kiss was wild and unexpected. I was gasping for air by the time we broke away. He kissed my forehead when I laid my head on his chest.

"I know I didn't accept your promise," Ian started to say, "but will you promise me something?"

"Of course."

He pulled me away from his chest and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Promise to never leave me. Promise to love me. Promise that even when I pass you three more rolls you eat them. Promise to always tell me when you're hurting or when you need help. Promise to tell me when you are tired and want a break from working. Promise to let me carry you when I think you won't make it here. Promise to let me stay with you, always by your side. Promise to let me protect you even though you think you don't need it. Promise me forever." Then he got down on one knee and pulled a small, velvet box from his back pocket. "Promise me forever."

My hands flew to me mouth as I started to cry. This wasn't how anything was suppose to happen. When I was inserted in Melanie, I should have been able to take over her mind. I should have been able to give up her secrets to the Seeker, then live a few decades before being shipped to another planet. But instead I befriended my host, followed her to the humans, and fell in love. Maybe this was suppose to happen. Maybe it was fate that I had been chosen to be put into Melanie. But I was sure of one thing. I was sure when I got down on my knees in front of Ian that it was destiny that we had ended up together. This wasn't suppose to work - a human and a soul. But sometimes the world has a strange way of telling us it doesn't matter.

So when I whispered back, "Forever," I knew that everything was how it was suppose to be.


End file.
